


long way home

by hokaidos



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 05:47:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11121144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hokaidos/pseuds/hokaidos
Summary: Jongin stumbles upon a piano that takes him back to 1995.





	long way home

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to write a time traveling au and I'm pretty happy with how this turned out! Thank you so much to Yuki for beta-ing this fic, you did an amazing job! ♥ Have fun reading! :)

Jongin has never really thought much of himself. He thinks he’s average at best; mediocre grades, shy personality, just taking life as it comes. Even this. As he watches his fingers fly across the piano keys, he thinks about how he has never really had a particular interest in the piano; he was made to take lessons as a child and has stuck to it ever since just because.

 

He continues to bring the composition to life anyway, attentive eyes scanning through the music sheet and translating the notes into a song that sounds just a little sad, or maybe that’s just him. While he wouldn’t consider himself an expert in in music, he is sure that he has never heard of this song before. This song doesn’t even have a title, and the sheet is yellowed and torn at the edges; could this be an original composition left behind by someone?

 

Whatever it might be, he focuses on the sheet before him, feeling strangely settled in this little room with an old piano that’s slightly out of tune. He had accidentally stumbled upon this mysterious room at the end of the hallway, on the third floor of the oldest building in their school compound.

 

A very mysterious room indeed, relatively small in size, and empty besides an old piano placed in the center of the room. The music sheet had already been placed on the stand, almost as though it was waiting to be discovered and brought to life.

 

 

Jongin keeps going as he makes it halfway through the song and gets a sudden feeling that something might happen at the end of this. His stomach clenches, and even in the midst of playing the song, he takes time to chuckle at his ridiculous thoughts. He must be too tired; he hasn’t gotten much sleep these past few days.

 

So when he’s about two-thirds through the music sheet and the world around him starts spinning, he attributes it to his fatigue. Nevertheless, that is enough to cause his fingers to come to a sharp halt. He pauses, looking around as the little room literally spins, walls blurring and making him feel lightheaded.

 

Only the piano seems to be at a standstill, but the last thing on Jongin’s mind is to continue playing what’s left on the music sheet even though there are only a few notes left. He attempts to get up and has just managed to shift the weight to his feet when he feels himself being knocked back.

 

It almost feels like a punch to the stomach, except that it doesn’t really hurt; he just feels completely out of breath as he feels himself getting thrown backwards. Jongin squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself for when he would hit the ground, but the thud that the painful collision would definitely have caused doesn’t come.

 

When he opens his eyes again, he can’t see a thing. Darkness has clouded his vision, he can’t even see his fingers before him.

 

That only lasts for a few seconds, although it definitely feels elongated in Jongin’s state of anxiety, but it goes as swiftly as it comes. Suddenly, he finds himself staring at the piano keys again, completely stupefied.

 

What the hell just happened?

 

He shakes his head, hoping to shake some sense into himself, and stands up after he regains feeling in his legs. That was definitely weird, but he attributes it to his exhaustion, the only logical explanation there is right now. He’s tired and started seeing things. That’s all there is to it. That must be all there is to it.

 

Having convinced himself of that, Jongin is wholly thrown off-course when he opens the door and steps out into a world he knows he doesn’t belong to. He’s still in school, it’s not the setting that has changed. Even though he isn’t very familiar with this building since he rarely has lessons here, he does, however, remember with pristine clarity the sight of peeling paint on the walls. He had paid extra attention to that before entering the secret room, briefly wondering how long it had been since any sort of renovation work was conducted in this ancient building.

 

Yet, no matter how hard Jongin squints now, the wall flooding his sight right outside the door looks freshly painted; no peeling paint, no footprints, nothing to indicate how old this building is.

 

The puzzlement trails him as he walks down the hallway, feeling oddly out of place in his school. He starts seeing signs of life at the ground floor, watching with wide eyes as students pass him by, astonishment stemming from not being able to recognize a single person. Even though he has never been very sociable, he is at least familiar with the faces of his schoolmates. After all, most of them came from the same middle school.

 

Seeing all these people for the first time has Jongin baffled out of his mind. A few students glance back at him too, probably wondering the exact same thing, and Jongin quickens his pace with only one destination in mind. He tries to make minimal eye-contact thereafter, feeling entirely uncomfortable with his present circumstances without really knowing why. He just doesn’t feel like he belongs, which is really weird since he’s already in his last year of high school.

 

His classroom is located in the next building, and Jongin hurries up the stairs until he’s on the second floor. He walks briskly down the hallway until he has arrived at the last classroom along the hallway and pokes his head in first, not quite knowing what to expect.

 

It’s already evening, and the classroom should be empty now. At the same time, his head is filled with an inexplicable notion that came out of nowhere, telling him that he would be able to find some answers here. But answers to what?

 

As predicted, the classroom is empty except for a boy sitting right at his desk, hunched over a thick book. Jongin stands at the door, gaping at the boy for a long moment, before he musters enough courage to walk in and get to the bottom of whatever the hell is happening now.

 

It feels weird, and he doesn’t like it one bit.

 

His footsteps attract the attention of the boy sitting at his desk who lifts his head from his book to look at Jongin. He has really wide eyes that make him look surprised, and Jongin can tell that he is as he inches closer and closer, trying to think of what to say.

 

Eventually, he sits down right next to the boy, beside the desk assigned to him.

 

“Hey, um.” It’s not the most promising beginning, but it’s the best Jongin can do at this point in time.

 

The boy blinks once, twice, evidently confused. “Yeah?” He asks coolly. Jongin doesn’t blame him for getting to the point right away without returning his greetings. He would have done the same thing had a strange boy appeared out of nowhere and approached him in the same manner.

 

“Um, I’m just a little lost right now.”

 

The boy looks him up and down. “You’re a student here?” He asks even though Jongin is wearing their school uniform.

 

Jongin nods anyway.

 

“What are you talking about? Do you need help finding a place? Are you a junior?”

 

“No, no. I’m in this class. This is actually my desk.” He points at the desk and the boy’s eyes grow even wider, puzzled. If he had just thought Jongin was strange, he probably thinks he’s absolutely batshit insane right now.

 

“I’ve been sitting here since the year started,” the boy’s perplexity manifests in a deep frown. “And I’ve never seen you before. Who are you?”

 

“I’m Jongin?” Jongin hopes his introduction would ease the tension between them somehow. “I’ve never seen you before either.”

 

“I’m Kyungsoo,” the boy replies after a long pause, still staring at him like he’s the biggest fucking weirdo in this universe. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and if this is some kind of joke, I really don’t find it funny.”

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t look like he’s lying. He turns back to his book after giving Jongin the most incredulous look, obviously not taken in by him. But Jongin isn’t lying either. He’s already on the verge of tearing his hair out.

 

He looks around him, at the empty classroom, at the blackboard—wait, _blackboard_?

 

“What’s the date today?”

 

Kyungsoo is starting to look annoyed, his features twisting into a slight scowl.

 

“May 11,” he answers graciously anyway.

 

Jongin shakes his head. “Which year?”

 

“1995. Look, can you just leave me alone? I’m not in the mood for this now.”

 

  1. Jongin doesn’t even hear the rest of what he says, those four digits seizing the entirety of his attention. _1995\. 1995. 1995._



 

“I don’t belong here,” he whispers, and his panic-stricken face must have succeeded in relaying his true emotions and convincing Kyungsoo that there might be more than meets the eye for the hostile expression on the other male’s face fades enough.

 

“What?”

 

“Look,” Jongin scoots closer to him, chair screeching against the floor as he drags it forward. “This is going to sound completely absurd, but I’m not from here. I’m not from 1995. I’m from 2017. I’m from the future, from _22 years later_.”

 

“What the hell are you blabbering about?” The look of concern on Kyungsoo’s face lasted only very briefly. He looks annoyed again, eyebrows furrowing.

 

Jongin doesn’t know how to explain this. He almost wants to cry and he leans back, until he looks down and spots the bulge in his pocket. His iPhone! That will have to do the trick. He digs it out of his pocket and dangles it in front of Kyungsoo’s face, whose eyes have grown so unbelievably wide that Jongin can practically see all of his sclera.

 

“I really did come from the future,” Jongin explains slowly. He stops waving his phone, places it on an open palm for Kyungsoo to get a good view of his sleek mobile device. “This is a smartphone. It can do anything—take photos, surf the net, send messages. But it’s not working now. The screen won’t light up. It’s called an iPhone, it’s really popular in 2017.”

 

“How do I know you’re not messing around with me?” Kyungsoo finally asks after a long pause.

 

Jongin scratches his head as he keeps his phone again, trying to remember if he has anything else that will serve as proof that he really did come from the future. He had left his backpack against the wall back in his own time, so he has nothing convincing right now. At last, he shrugs.

 

“I don’t have anything else to prove to you that it’s not some kind of sick joke. All I can tell you is that I really am _not_ kidding around.”

 

He drops his gaze. It lands on the book still being held open in Kyungsoo’s hands, and he leans forward with interest.

 

“What is that?”

 

Kyungsoo shuts it and stuffs it into his bag before Jongin can get a clear glimpse of its title.

 

“Just a book,” he says. Now that there aren’t any distractions, he turns around fully to face Jongin. “Okay, how did you arrive here from the future?”

 

This question brings to mind the mysterious piano in the equally mysterious room. Jongin smiles. Finally something he can answer.

 

“I can’t tell you,” he says, “but I can _show_ you.”

 

-

 

Jongin begins the story from when he was tasked to carry some books over to this particular building. After placing them in the empty science laboratory in preparation for class the following day, a sudden curiosity had led to him walking down the hallway, wanting to see what other rooms were around since he rarely had any classes in this building.

 

Very few did.

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t say a word as he follows Jongin, allowing himself to be led to the small room with the piano. That’s when he briefly remarks that he has never seen this room either, never even heard of there being a piano in this building.

 

“So I played what was written on this.” Jongin gestures at the music sheet, drawing Kyungsoo’s attention to it. “And next thing I know, I’m here.”

 

Kyungsoo, who is at least half a head shorter than Jongin, frowns deeply as he approaches the piano with some wariness. He reaches out and runs his fingers across the piano keys, not exerting enough force to press down.

 

“Then you wandered to your classroom and saw me?” He asks, connecting the dots.

 

“That’s right.”

 

“I see.”

 

It’s impossible to tell what Kyungsoo is thinking of now despite him having clearly displayed astonishment earlier. His face is totally devoid of any emotions, and Jongin can’t tell if he has managed to convince him. He wants to say more but decides to keep his mouth shut at the last second, allowing Kyungsoo to indulge in his contemplation for a little longer and hoping that would be favourable for him.

 

He just needs someone on his side now, who would try to figure out how to get him out of this mess together with him.

 

“Why don’t you try to play the song again?” Kyungsoo eventually asks, and Jongin is ashamed to admit that this idea never struck him until Kyungsoo suggested it.

 

“I can do that,” he says.

 

Kyungsoo steps aside to let him take his seat, and Jongin looks up at Kyungsoo for reassurance before his fingers engage the piano keys in a dance, one that makes him nearly forget where he is until he’s more than halfway through and nearing the point that had caused the world to start spinning earlier.

 

As per his prediction, the world does start spinning at that point. Jongin grits his teeth and memorizes the rest of the line so he can afford to play uninterrupted while turning to his left to regard Kyungsoo, whose jaw has practically dropped.

 

Jongin doesn’t stop. He continues to play, and this time doesn’t try to resist the punching sensation that leaves him breathless, compels him backwards. What he does, however, is persevere and finish playing the entire song before allowing himself to fall back into darkness.

 

When he regains sight, it’s like everything had been a dream, for he’s sitting before the piano and there isn’t a single thing out of place. His head jerks around.

 

No sign of Kyungsoo.

 

His backpack is resting where he left it against the wall, and he grabs it before running out of the door, down the stairs, out of the building and into the twilight. He keeps running until he’s close enough to the basketball court to see the people there, where he spots his classmates Chanyeol and Minseok instantly.

 

Only then does he stop.

 

He bends over to catch his breath, panting as he feels his lungs burn and heart beat in an erratic rhythm from sudden overdrive.

 

Jongin spends the rest of the night wondering what the hell he has discovered and the look on Kyungsoo’s face as he watched him vanish into thin air. Even though he made it back to where he came from, knowing that he left Kyungsoo behind just like that leaves a bitter taste on his tongue that dissipates only when he promises himself to go back for the boy from the past the very next day.

 

-

 

The moment the last bell rings, Jongin races out of his classroom and towards the creepy old building that has so many haunted rumours hanging around it.

 

The horror stories don’t deter him one bit, although he does catch himself hesitating slightly before he opens the door to the mysterious room. The piano looks grander than it did yesterday when Jongin looks at it, perhaps because now he knows what it is capable of doing. The music sheet is still placed on the stand, unruffled.

 

It looks almost as if everything had been left in place, waiting for him to return.

 

Jongin snaps out of his trance quickly and plops himself onto the chair, his backpack still clinging on to him. His fingers start moving across the piano keys after another short bout of hesitation, conquering his fears that he might somehow get trapped in the past and not be able to come back, or that the music sheet might have suddenly lost its powers and he wouldn’t be transported back in time.

 

He plays at a much faster tempo, wanting whatever will happen to happen quickly, feeling both excited and anxious. Thus, in view of his anticipation, the moment he’s two-thirds through the song and feels the sensation of being yanked back again, he stops playing and lets himself fall.

 

Back in 1995, Jongin doesn’t feel as fascinated by the freshly painted walls and doesn’t attract as many glances when he makes his way to the classroom where he hopes he would be able to find Kyungsoo. Then again, it helps that he knows what’s going on this time and isn’t behaving suspiciously.

 

“Kyungsoo!”

 

Fortunately, the boy is sitting at his desk, alone in the classroom once again. Jongin hopes this means that he must have stayed back just to wait for him. His assumption is confirmed when he sees nothing on Kyungsoo’s desk, nothing to indicate that he had anything else to do in the room.

 

Kyungsoo’s head snaps up, and he gets to his feet to approach Jongin. They meet midway. The shorter male starts talking before Jongin has a chance to.

 

“I saw you vanish!” he exclaims, eyes shining. “You really did come from the future!”

 

Jongin can’t help but laugh, Kyungsoo’s childlike excitement contagious. He’s relieved that he believes him now.

 

“I told you that right from the beginning.”

 

“Do you think it would work for me too? It would be pretty cool to be transported into the future.”

 

Jongin shrugs loosely. “You can try.”

 

That suggestion pleases Kyungsoo. The excitement lasts for all of three seconds before he remembers something crucial and promptly deflates, shoulders slumping.

 

“Oh, but I can’t play the piano.”

 

The smile on Jongin’s face grows wider.

 

“I can teach you,” he offers, and that is all it takes to reignite the fire in Kyungsoo’s eyes. He nods, head bobbing up and down like a little kid.

 

They walk around the school campus afterwards. Jongin tells Kyungsoo about all the changes that have taken place over the years, much to the horror of the shorter male.

 

“They built a new hall.” Jongin tells him as they stand before the assembly area Kyungsoo had introduced with a sigh, grumbling about how much he hated having to assemble with the rest of the school once every fortnight to listen to stupid speeches.

 

“Where?”

 

“In the main building. Oh, and that clubroom?”

 

Kyungsoo looks almost too excited to hear what he has to say. Jongin leans in to build the atmosphere, thinking that the look on Kyungsoo’s face is absolutely adorable for his age.

 

“They closed it down because it was rumoured that a girl killed herself in there right before finals.”

 

“No way!”

 

Jongin tries to keep a straight face. “Absolutely,” he says. “I thought it would be from around your time. I guess it must have happened in the 2000s, huh?”

 

The shorter male looks more intrigued than horrified.

 

By the time they’re halfway across the open field for more privacy, to be able to talk about things that might make them sound insane if overheard by anyone else, they’re already walking so closely that their arms are brushing. Jongin doesn’t know when it happened; he reckons it probably did when he started telling Kyungsoo about the horror stories and had to speak in a lower voice for more effect.

 

Anyhow, it doesn’t matter.

 

“Tell me more,” Kyungsoo says, “tell me _everything_.”

 

So Jongin does.

 

They talk until night has long fallen, and Kyungsoo suggests bringing Jongin to his house so they can have dinner together.

 

“I’ll creep into school with you again when you have to go back,” Kyungsoo promises when he senses Jongin’s deliberation, although his hesitation really has more to do with his discomfort in what is after all, a world he doesn’t belong in, than being scared of having to go back into school alone and playing the piano like a scene straight out of a horror movie.

 

“But you’ll be left all alone when I’m gone,” Jongin retorts, and that seems to be something Kyungsoo did not think of when he offered his company.

 

He hums contemplatively and eventually decides to put on a false front. “I’ll suffer through it.”

 

Kyungsoo’s determination wins Jongin over. They make their way out of the school and towards Kyungsoo’s house. It doesn’t feel that much different. Jongin points out the little things that have changed along their way, like how a bus-stop was constructed right outside their school and a row of terrace houses was built on the barren patch of land.

 

The biggest change Jongin notices leaves him shellshocked, tongue tied for a few long minutes when they go around the bend, and Kyungsoo leads him down the path that will take them to his house. His new friend nudges him, concerned.

 

“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

 

His smile falters when Jongin tells him what has him so surprised.

 

“The area you live in—they demolished the houses and built a really big shopping complex instead.”

 

“What?” Kyungsoo regains his composure quickly enough, though his voice trembles slightly when he speaks. “Am I going to end up homeless or something? I can’t really imagine moving out of that place yet. I’ve been staying there since I was born.”

 

To reassure him, Jongin smiles.

 

“You’ll probably move to a nicer apartment complex or something.”

 

After that, they lapse into a mutual silence, both deep in thought. Jongin tries to figure out if they replaced the lampposts over the years too, thinking that it feels especially dark here despite the jaded streetlights.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Do you think you’d be able to go back to your time to meet me and see what kind of person I’ve become?”

 

Jongin gives him a long sideway glance. “I wouldn’t know where to look for you though?”

 

“We can always arrange a place to meet.” Kyungsoo definitely seems a lot more enthusiastic about this issue than him. “And I’ll just have to remember to show up to this appointment 22 years later. That could work, right?”

 

It does sound like it could. However, as Jongin looks at him, at his youthful face and bright eyes, he realizes that he doesn’t know if he really wants to see Kyungsoo in 22 years time. Besides, it seems too complicated. He doesn’t want to risk defying the natural order of things.

 

Kyungsoo’s enthusiasm dies down before Jongin can disappoint him with a non-committal answer. He rejects his own idea.

 

“Nah, maybe that wouldn’t be a good idea. I don’t think I want to know how I’d be like in 22 years. I might not even be alive.” He gives a shudder. “It’s scary just thinking about it.” Then he cocks his head at Jongin. “But I wonder if I’d still remember meeting you in 22 years.”

 

“I’ve been told I’m a very forgettable existence,” Jongin half-jokes and only realizes that he genuinely thinks that way of himself when he feels a tinge of sadness at his words.

 

Kyungsoo’s gaze turns serious. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget you, Jongin.”

 

It has everything to do with this whole time traveling miracle; Jongin is clearly aware, yet he feels his heart skip a beat anyway. He drops his head, finding Kyungsoo’s gaze too overwhelming all of a sudden, and he doesn’t know what to say to that.

 

“That’s my house at the end of the street.”

 

When he looks up again, Kyungsoo is no longer looking at him, leaving him more at ease.

 

“Let’s go, I’m starving.” He breaks into a sprint after saying those words. It only takes a few seconds for Kyungsoo to catch up.

 

The air is chilly at night. Jongin shivers as he runs, wishing he had brought a jacket, then remembers to check on Kyungsoo who looks completely unaffected by the drop in temperature. He catches Jongin’s eye and grins, his nose crinkling, and that’s the last thing Jongin remembers seeing before he’s thrown back into a pit of darkness.

 

He falls, falls, falls, and has vaguely figured out what’s happening when he finds himself sitting before the piano again, in 2017.

 

Jongin looks at his watch.

 

It’s 9PM.

 

-

 

Jongin visits the mysterious room with the magical piano after school the next day, but at a slightly later time than the past two days because he had club activities after school. He hasn’t stopped thinking about what happened last night, wondering why he was yanked back into his own world without warning, without getting a chance to say goodbye to Kyungsoo, just like the last time.

 

It typically takes him a few weeks to memorize a full song, but Jongin can already play the first part of the song with his eyes closed despite it only having been two days since he stumbled upon the piece. Nevertheless, he gives it all he has, suddenly thankful that he had consented to continuing piano lessons even though he didn’t—and still doesn’t—think he has a special talent for music.

 

What would have happened if he didn’t know how to play the piano? Would someone else discover this room, play this piece, go back to 1995 and meet Kyungsoo? Jongin cannot imagine anyone else in his shoes.

 

He’s so immersed in the song that he subconsciously resists the force gripping him tenaciously when he’s two-thirds through the song, drawing him back. He fights against it, at this moment, hardly aware of what he’s doing, and only falls back when his finger presses down on the last key, completing the piece.

 

The darkness shifts around him but no longer scares him anymore. He’s already getting used to this.

 

The building is relatively empty when Jongin runs as fast as he can to the classroom. He knows he’s way later than usual, and he didn’t even manage to talk about this with Kyungsoo last night before he was so rudely thrust back into his world. But a small part of him is still hoping that he’ll see Kyungsoo waiting for him in the classroom.

 

 

He feels such a strong wave of relief surging through his veins when he sees a familiar figure in the empty classroom. He lingers at the door. His desk is right beside the window with a rather lovely view of the school campus, and Kyungsoo appears to have dozed off while watching tiny people in the distance come and go.

 

Jongin smiles as he walks towards Kyungsoo. He shakes his shoulder, bringing him back to consciousness, and the smaller male looks at him with bleary eyes.

 

“Oh, hey, Jongin.” He says, rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes. “Pretty late today, huh?”

 

Jongin settles down beside him, placing his backpack on the desk.

 

“Yeah, I had some club activities after school. Anyway, sorry about yesterday. I have no idea why that happened.”

 

“You scared me a little bit just vanishing all of a sudden.” Kyungsoo admits. “But it’s fine. Maybe you have a time limit or something. It was about 9PM, right? Maybe you can’t stay past that time.”

 

They turn to the clock in the classroom at the same time. It’s already 6.15PM.

 

“We haven’t got much time together today,” Jongin says wistfully.

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t question why he wants to stay longer, or better yet, why he keeps coming back.

 

“We can leave for my house now, but before that, I want to show you something.”

 

The screeching of his chair as it’s dragged against the floor seems to resonate in the empty space, and Jongin winces at the shrill sound. Kyungsoo is already at the back of the classroom when he gets past that, waiting for him to go over.

 

“Look.”

 

He follows the direction Kyungsoo has his finger pointed at and sees a few alphabets carved into the wooden cupboard.

 

_HEL L O_

 

“What is this?”

 

The smug smile on Kyungsoo’s face is both amusing and endearing at the same time.

 

“I carved it while waiting for you. When you go back to your time, help me see if these carvings will stay. They didn’t replace the cupboard, did they?”

 

Jongin studies the wooden cupboard before him. It does look very similar to the one in the back of his classroom, but he doesn’t know if it has been replaced.

 

“I’ll see,” he promises.

 

“It was really tough.” Kyungsoo shows him the penknife he had used to carve these 5 letters with. “But it kept me entertained while waiting for you.”

 

Jongin snorts. “You kept yourself entertained by sleeping.”

 

He gets punched in the arm for teasing Kyungsoo like that, but he doesn’t mind it, and neither does Kyungsoo. They set off for the house Jongin never managed to make it to last night, discussing theories and more theories of time travelling along the way.

 

Kyungsoo is slightly disappointed to learn that teleportation still won’t be possible after 22 years.

 

“Seems like the worlds we live in aren’t too different,” he says with a sigh, kicking a pebble along his path.

 

The sound of a dog barking drifts into his ears as they step through the gates and into Kyungsoo’s house. It’s a modest two-storey house, just nice for a family of 4 and a dog, whose presence is only made known when a pembroke welsh corgi comes dashing out.

 

Kyungsoo bends down to scoop the excited dog in his arms.

 

“My dog,” he says like Jongin hasn’t already figured that out. “His name is Oscar.”

 

The latter bends until he’s at eye-level with Oscar. The dog certainly isn’t shy, practically struggling in Kyungsoo’s grasp in an attempt to get to know this new person. His owner only allows him to act on his desire when Jongin assures him that he absolutely loves dogs.

 

Oscar takes to Jongin instantly, allowing himself to be carried into the house. Jongin kicks off his shoes, slightly nervous now as he licks his dry lips, not knowing what to expect. Do people have different etiquettes in the 1990s? What should he say when he sees Kyungsoo’s mother?

 

“Nobody’s home,” Kyungsoo chuckles when he notices the look on Jongin’s face. “They’ll be back in an hour or two. Dinner will have to wait till then. You fine with that?”

 

Jongin smiles. “That’s alright.”

 

They climb the stairs and enter Kyungsoo’s room which is conveniently located beside the bathroom. Jongin whistles under his breath as he sweeps his gaze around his surroundings, taking in the neat bedroom. Oscar seems content to stay in his arms forever, his little paws pressed against Jongin’s chest as his tongue wags out.

 

“Very neat,” Jongin compliments him with raised eyebrows.

 

Kyungsoo just laughs. He drops his backpack and flops onto the bed, yawning loudly.

 

“What do you usually do after school?”

 

The smaller male is lying sideways when Jongin looks up from giving Oscar a belly rub, chin propped up with his fist. He has his gaze entirely transfixed on Jongin, to the extent that it makes the latter feel a little mean for being distracted with the dog now.

 

“Play video games,” he says after thinking for a moment. “Do my homework if I feel like it.”

 

“Video games? What kind?”

 

“Don’t ask, you’re just going to be sad that you can’t play them now.”

 

In the end, Jongin yields after getting smacked in the face by Kyungsoo who proves himself to be small but deadly. He tells Kyungsoo, who listens with shining eyes, about his favourite video games and how they’re played.

 

This feels really good, Jongin thinks. It’s nice to have someone who’s so interested in what he has to say. He doesn’t even mind when Kyungsoo starts asking, admittedly, stupid questions and remains patient when Kyungsoo insists on talking about video games for the next hour or so.

 

The meal with Kyungsoo’s family goes pretty well too. Jongin manages to be friendly with his parents even though he’s too busy stuffing his mouth with the barbequed pork belly most of the time. He answers Kyungsoo’s mother’s questions the way she likes it, that he knows, for she gushes about what a good boy he is for the rest of the dinner, and Jongin catches Kyungsoo rolling his eyes, much to his amusement.

 

When they retreat back to Kyungsoo’s room with Oscar shadowing them, it’s 8.57PM.

 

Kyungsoo stares at Jongin. “3 minutes,” he says.

 

At least this time, they know what to expect. Jongin wipes an imaginary tear.

 

“Wish I could stay,” he says sincerely, and his heartfelt confession plants the biggest smile on Kyungsoo’s face.

 

His friend seems happy, looking much younger, much more like a child, sitting cross-legged in his uniform. He reaches out for Oscar who is nestled comfortably on Jongin’s thighs, and they both laugh when the dog turns a blind eye to his owner’s request.

 

“He’s going to be so surprised when you disappear,” Kyungsoo chuckles. “But I gave him a chance. It’s his own fault.”

 

Having grown extremely fond of Oscar despite only having spent a few short hours together, Jongin can’t possibly bear to let that happen. He lifts the dog and hands him over to Kyungsoo.

 

They turn towards the clock, watching the minute-hand, the second-hand, counting down to when Jongin has to say goodbye again.

 

“Make sure you come back to teach me how to play the piano,” Kyungsoo tells him, saying his words in such a hurry, afraid Jongin might vanish before he gets to finish his sentence.

 

“I will,” Jongin promises him.

 

The clock strikes 9PM.

 

But nothing happens.

 

They stare at each other, mutually baffled.

 

“You’re still here, right?” Kyungsoo asks in a small voice. “Or am I just seeing things?”

 

Oscar has remained quietly in his arms, eyes almost shut, and that is the best evidence that nothing out of the ordinary has happened. Jongin _is_ still here. He pinches himself to make sure he really is still here and nods slowly.

 

“Yeah, I’m still here.”

 

“Why?”

 

In response to Kyungsoo’s question, Jongin shuts his eyes and thinks. He tries to remember what he has done differently today; going back to the room, settling down before the piano, playing the song… _oh_. He had managed to finish the entire piece before allowing himself to fall back into the darkness, to be transported back in time.

 

That must have something to do with how long he’s allowed to stay.

 

He tells Kyungsoo about that.

 

“Does that mean you’ll get to stay here forever until you play the same song to go back?”

 

The dog has fallen asleep, feeling safe and basking in the low light and gentle voices.

 

“I don’t know,” Jongin admits. He cracks his fingers. “I don’t know how any of this works, actually.”

 

He’s really getting used to seeing Kyungsoo smile; the boy smiles so much. Jongin likes it. It makes him want to smile too.

 

“It’s fine,” Kyungsoo mutters. “It was pretty fun tonight.”

 

“It was.”

 

“Tomorrow’s Friday. Come here earlier; I’ll take you out.”

 

Jongin hugs his legs against his chest, leaning forward to rest his head on his knees. “Can it be Friday already?”

 

He doesn’t realize he had said that thought aloud until he hears Kyungsoo’s laughter, and while he initially feels embarrassed, that feeling is quickly replaced with happiness that’s warm and spreads evenly in his chest.

 

The darkness comes for him nearly 2 hours later, except this time he’s not yanked into it by force—he allows it to circle him, surround him, and it’s almost like falling asleep, which isn’t so bad when Kyungsoo’s sleepy smile is the last thing he sees.

 

\--

 

The next day, during lunchtime, Jongin fulfils his promise to Kyungsoo. He checks the wooden cupboard for the carvings Kyungsoo left and is unable to suppress a smile when he sees those five alphabets. They’ve been worn out overtime but have remained readable, and Jongin is too excited about telling Kyungsoo he successfully left his mark to think about how disturbing it is that this wooden cupboard hasn’t been replaced in so long.

 

As instructed by Kyungsoo, he goes over to the room with the piano right after his last class. He doesn’t even go play football with some of his classmates even though he’s sorely tempted to. In the room, he takes his time to play the piece, now more focused on making it sound good.

 

He sets his pace slow, adding his own touch to the composition, and has a satisfied smile on his face when he presses down the last key and goes back in time.

 

“22 years!” Kyungsoo exclaims when he hears what Jongin has to say about his carvings. “It sort of makes me feel like a part of me transcended time with you too, though you know, that doesn’t really make sense.”

 

Jongin is starting to think he could spend all of his time just watching Kyungsoo’s face; watching his eyebrows raise when he hears something pleasantly surprising, watching his nose crinkle when he smiles, watching his neat rows of teeth show when he laughs. He has met a lot of happy people, but Kyungsoo is the first whose happiness is able to induce his own.

 

They spend the entire afternoon seated side by side before the piano. It’s a tight fit, and Kyungsoo’s side is pressed so intimately against his that there are times Jongin’s unable to think about anything besides the warmth radiating from Kyungsoo’s body. A tingling sensation crawls across the expanse of his skin when Kyungsoo leans into him, complaining about this instrument being too difficult to learn.

 

“It takes time,” Jongin can only say, practically frozen, not equipped to deal with how the proximity with Kyungsoo is making him feel.

 

“I’m usually a really fast learner,” Kyungsoo insists as he straightens up, and Jongin finally regains his ability to breathe. “But I’m really hungry right now, so I can’t function properly. Let’s go get food? I said I’ll take you out.”

 

This might indeed be the best course of action for Jongin who doesn’t think he can bear having Kyungsoo lean against him again, making him feel sensations he’s not used to, making him feel all tingly and strange.

 

So off they go, with Kyungsoo leading the way while going on and on about anything and everything. Jongin just listens—happy to listen, likes to hear Kyungsoo speak so freely about his life and interesting people he has come across, and what he thinks will happen 100 years from now.

 

“Do you wish the song would take you into the future instead of this boring past?” Kyungsoo asks him all of a sudden.

 

The look on his face tells Jongin that, regardless of his answer, Kyungsoo wouldn’t feel hurt or anything. He’s genuinely curious, fully expects him to be honest, and Jongin gives some serious thought to it, or more like pretends to contemplate the question. He knows he doesn’t have to; the answer came to him the moment Kyungsoo asked, or maybe it came earlier, from the moment he met confused and annoyed Kyungsoo.

 

“No,” he says.

 

Kyungsoo must not have been expecting such a certain answer. His eyebrows raise, his usual reaction to hearing something pleasantly surprisingly, or at least Jongin would like to think so. He drops his gaze to his shoes, bashful, and braces himself for a follow-up question that would very likely cause him to reveal that it’s purely to do with the fact that he got to meet Kyungsoo.

 

However, it never comes.

 

Kyungsoo moves on to talking about something else fairly quickly, and Jongin will never know why he didn’t choose to pursue the topic. But he’s fine with that and goes along with Kyungsoo, telling him that his opinions are stupid (not that he really means it, not at all).

 

The boy beside him is easily one of the most interesting people he has ever met in his life, and it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s from 1995. The way he thinks, the way he talks, the way he finds humour in the most random things—Jongin really likes everything about him. He likes hanging out with Kyungsoo who makes him forget that he’s shy and average and might always be completely ordinary.

 

When he’s with Kyungsoo, he’s someone who’s fascinating and funny. Someone looks forward to hanging out with him too; he feels important. Kyungsoo makes him feel significant.

 

He reveals this to Kyungsoo while they’re queueing at a roadside stall for sausages.

 

“This is nice.”

 

Kyungsoo glances at him. “Hmm?”

 

“This is nice,” Jongin repeats. “Being here, buying food from a roadside stall.” _With you._

 

The smaller male, having been seduced by the sausages entirely, pays only half-hearted attention to Jongin.

 

“Yeah,” he mumbles in response, not realizing how heavy this confession is for Jongin who is introverted and usually keeps his feelings to himself.

 

Yet, it is this very factor that enables Jongin to speak freely. If given a choice, he wouldn’t ask for all of Kyungsoo’s attention right now. That would make it too overwhelming for him to admit such heavy feelings. Just this is enough.

 

“I’ve just always, felt kind of alone, you know? Back there.”

 

Time traveling works as well as going overseas. Jongin feels like all of his problems have been left far behind, or rather, far in the future. Right now, he doesn’t have anything that can possibly weigh down his heart. Right now, he’s just a boy about to eat a nice hot sausage under the starry sky on a Friday night.

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything, but by now, Jongin is confident that he understands how much this means to him. Both the confession of feeling alone and the experience of something so simple and blissful.

 

The right words don’t exist in situations like that. There is nothing Kyungsoo can say to make Jongin’s feelings of loneliness go away instantly. It just doesn’t work that way. He seems to understand this even better than Jongin and hands him another sausage.

 

He might never come up with the right words to say, but he knows that as long as they both remember how they feel at this very moment, hot sausages in their hands and hearts full, they’ll always have something to fight off the loneliness that may strike from time to time.

 

\--

 

“It’s been almost two weeks.”

 

“And?”

 

The way Kyungsoo is defiantly jutting his chin out tickles Jongin’s funny bones.

 

“You’re still stuck at the first line.”

 

Kyungsoo looks offended that Jongin would bring up such a shameful matter like this, raise something he has been trying to ignore in order to not become disheartened.

 

“There are too many piano keys!” he protests, sweeping his fingers across all of them to prove his point.

 

“That’s why I told you to start by learning the basics.”

 

“That would take way too long.”

 

Jongin rolls his eyes but doesn’t comment further, letting Kyungsoo get his way.

 

“But I’m not going anywhere,” he eventually says after watching Kyungsoo have a mini mental breakdown for the third time since they resumed their piano lesson.

 

The smaller male starts from the beginning again, fingers moving hesitantly, producing jagged music.

 

“You never know,” he says, eyes focused on the music sheet before him. “Things like time traveling are tricky. You never know what’s going to happen, so I’m going to learn this as quickly as I can, because I want to keep seeing you, Jongin.”

 

Jongin doesn’t even hear Kyungsoo playing the second line in succession, for his mind is flooded with Kyungsoo’s confession of his fondness, and he barely remembers to react when Kyungsoo nudges him really hard to ask him if he played the second line correctly.

 

As the latter tries again, eyes shining with pride, Jongin listens and thinks there would be nothing he’d like to do more now than to compose a song for Kyungsoo.

 

\--

 

“Oscar really likes you.”

 

“I know that.”

 

It’s clear enough with how comfortable Oscar is around him. In fact, Kyungsoo’s parents appear to like him too, always asking him to come over often.

 

Jongin scratches between the dog’s ears, smiling lightly as Oscar’s eyes begin to fall shut again.

 

“My family, too.”

 

“I don’t know about your brother.”

 

“He hasn’t said anything bad about you, so he probably does.”

 

They like to spend Monday nights at Kyungsoo’s place, mostly because it’s a routine they have grown used to. Jongin leans forward, careful not to move around too much to avoid waking the dog, and rests his head against the edge of the bed Kyungsoo is on.

 

“What about you?”

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t respond immediately. He hums along to a tune that’s been stuck in his mind all day, mulling over what might go wrong if he answers it honestly, if any misunderstandings might arise and form a rift between them.

 

“I like you, too.”

 

Friends can like each other too. It doesn’t always have to be romantic; love exists in many, many, many forms. That’s what Kyungsoo wants Jongin to think for now, even if he means so much more than that.

 

Jongin surprises him with an equally suave answer.

 

“Me too,” he says.

 

Having transported himself back into the past so many times, Jongin has figured out how to control how long he gets to stay in this world now. It all depends on whether he finishes playing the song, and the tempo at which he plays. The slower he goes, the longer he gets to stay. So he always plays as slowly as he can without breaking the composition, not wanting to risk anything going wrong now that he has found something so infinitely precious that he wants to protect so much.

 

Tonight, he knows he’ll be here long enough to watch Kyungsoo fall asleep. That boy has fallen asleep in his presence many times, a real sleepyhead that Jongin only finds endearing and lovable. He might be in love, he thinks as he listens to Kyungsoo’s voice slowly get softer and softer, then eventually trails off.

 

No, he knows he _is_ in love.

 

Kyungsoo’s sleeping face is easily the most adorable thing he has ever seen, dark brows relaxed and eyelashes long. His lips, too, are the prettiest, and Jongin’s thoughts wander to how it’d feel like to kiss them.

 

He has also developed an amazing instinct for when he knows he will be transported back, his sixth-sense hitting him seconds before the darkness does, and Jongin is grateful for it as he gently places a lazy Oscar onto the bed beside Kyungsoo who has long fallen asleep.

 

He didn’t mean to, that Jongin knows. His fingers are still curled around the figurine he was fiddling with while talking to Jongin, and the taller male makes the impromptu decision to pry it out of his hand, placing it back into its original position beside the bed.

 

Once everything is back in place, Jongin gets ready to return home. Or the semblances of home, if home is feeling empty sitting before the piano, making the lonely walk back without a certain boy sharing some pretty stupid theories with him.

 

“I like you too,” he whispers as the darkness entraps him, a stark contrast to the image of Kyungsoo snuggled with Oscar, years and years away from him.

 

Jongin says goodbye for now.

 

\--

 

“Do you still want to know what you’d be like in 22 years?”

 

Jongin asks while they’re waiting for the rain to stop, having ducked into a random building for shelter.

 

“Will that be possible?”

 

“We’ll work something out.”

 

Kyungsoo looks almost melancholic, gazing out at the falling raindrops like that, face shrouded in thoughtfulness. The sounds of raindrops pelting the ground muffle Kyungsoo’s voice. Jongin has to take a step forward from leaning against the wall to go closer, to hear him.

 

“No, not really. I don’t think I want to know anymore.”

 

“Why not?”

 

There is a charm to how Kyungsoo keeps his back to him, his face shielded from sight, his expression and feelings completely unknown.

 

“Just… What would it be like? I wouldn’t be at the right age anymore, would I?”

 

 _For what_? Jongin almost asks, until Kyungsoo turns around and smiles sadly at him.

 

“Don’t. I don’t want you to see me in 22 years.”

 

What else can Jongin say?

 

“Alright,” he agrees, promises him. “I won’t.”

 

“Thanks.” Kyungsoo tells him, and Jongin returns his smile.

 

His gaze drops, as if having noticed something off, and steps towards Jongin.

 

“Your shoelaces,” he says to a confused Jongin, going down on one knee without another word.

 

Jongin won’t deny how his heart stopped beating for a moment, won’t hide it if Kyungsoo asks. He gazes down at Kyungsoo who has his face inclined downwards, so he can’t see his expression, but he can fill the missing picture in his mind all too easily.

 

Knotted eyebrows, serious eyes; a lovely, lovely, lovely face.

 

The smaller male might be clumsy when he plays the piano, but his fingers are nimble as he knots Jongin’s untied shoelaces. He gives it a tug to ensure its tightness and has his most dazzling beam on display when he lifts his head, looking at Jongin from that angle.

 

“Wouldn’t want you to trip when you’re traveling across time.”

 

There has never been a moment when Jongin wants to kiss Kyungsoo more badly than he does right now, wants to hold his face and kiss him, treat him right and kiss and kiss and kiss him.

 

“You know, Kyungsoo,” he manages to say while watching the said male rise to full form again. “You are pretty much the only reason why I get out of bed at all every single morning.”

 

There it is again. Those heart shaped lips. Jongin has never been more honoured to be the reason behind someone’s happiness, had never really bothered to try before he met Kyungsoo.

 

\--

 

Jongin always thought every single second he spends with Kyungsoo would be blissful, but as he watches Kyungsoo’s fingers jab the piano keys, lacking the confidence essential to play well, his heart sinks slowly.

 

“Okay,” Kyungsoo is either oblivious to Jongin’s downcast eyes or is ignoring it for now, perhaps waiting for the right moment. “I think I’ve mastered the third line.”

 

The taller male manages to force a smile.

 

“That’s great,” he says, even though he isn’t listening at all.

 

Kyungsoo’s gaze lingers on his face, studying him intently for a long moment.

 

“Play it for me,” he finally requests in a soft voice, retracting his hands for Jongin to take over.

 

Not all things have to be explicitly spelled out. Some meanings are lost if they are translated into words. They are best conveyed through concerned eyes and an arm curled loosely, protectively, around a waist.

 

Jongin hears it as clear as day.

 

_Tell me what’s wrong._

 

He complies with Kyungsoo’s request and allows his fingers to dance across the piano keys, barely looking up at the sheet when he knows the composition like the back of his hand now. The song sounds even sadder today, and Jongin wonders if Kyungsoo noticed this change.

 

“They’re going to demolish the school.” Jongin manages to croak out when he ends the song on a melancholic note without hitting the last key. His finger hovers above it long afterwards, thinking how nice it would be if he could be in control of endings in reality too. “They announced their plans for us to move to another school campus and demolish this one at the end of the week.”

 

Following that is a long pause as Kyungsoo tries to wrap his head around this piece of information that he doesn’t know how to deal with. They don’t look at each other. Jongin makes do with hearing Kyungsoo’s steady breathing beside him, feeling the warmth of his arm pressed against his. When did he become so used to this?

 

Kyungsoo breaks the silence.

 

“The fourth line,” he says, and his voice doesn’t waver one bit. “Teach me how to play the fourth line.”

 

The anxiety plaguing Jongin cracks just enough for a small smile to slip through. He licks his lips.

 

“Alright.”

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t goof around too much today, listening intently to Jongin who, for a change, doesn’t nag at him about starting from the basics again. He remains relatively silent for the most part and Jongin knows his mind is somewhere else despite being so focused on this right now, a small part of him lost in a place inaccessible by him.

 

There are places Jongin can’t follow Kyungsoo to, and he’ll just have to make do with waiting for him to return.

 

That might be why Kyungsoo doesn’t make much progress, although this slowness has been consistent since he first started learning. He obviously isn’t at all inclined towards music. Jongin watches his eyebrows pull together into a frown, looking more frustrated right now than when they went to his house together to discover that Oscar had chewed up a stack of notes Kyungsoo had accidentally left on the ground.

 

This silence feels more like the calm before a storm than acceptance. Jongin starts to regret having informed Kyungsoo already. Maybe he should have waited until he came up with some kind of plan that would put the smaller male at ease before breaking this terrible piece of news to him.

 

When the storm arrives, it does in the form of quietly spoken words and an averted gaze. Kyungsoo drops his hands, letting them hang loosely by his sides, wearing a look of complete defeat that Jongin thinks doesn’t suit him at all.

 

“I can’t do it.” Kyungsoo is breaking now; Jongin can tell even though his voice is still as steady as ever and his face blank. “I won’t ever learn to play this piece in time.”

 

_Time._

 

They’re running out of _time_.

 

They’ve been running out of time all along.

 

Jongin starts asking himself what he would have done differently if he had known this right from the start, only to be distracted by Kyungsoo’s voice again.

 

“Maybe we should stop this now.” Kyungsoo really is mean, saying such cruel things with a straight face. “You should go back and not return again. Is there really a point to what we’re doing if it’s all going to come to an end?”

 

“You knew we couldn’t keep this up forever,” Jongin retorts, his own voice cracking. He’s not so good at concealing his emotions, especially when they’re overflowing now. He loses all control as long as it has something to do with Kyungsoo.

 

“Saying goodbye is going to be so much more difficult if we don’t stop this now.” The smaller male doesn’t even seem to be listening to him. He sounds like he already has his mind made up, jaw clenched. He turns his head slowly, regarding Jongin with soulful eyes.

 

There are times Kyungsoo is a closed book even though he smiles so much. Jongin can’t read his face at all right now, can’t climb over the high wall he has erected, erroneously blocking out the wrong person. He can only take a blind leap of faith and hope that he’s right in thinking that Kyungsoo is saying things he doesn’t mean; he finds it impossible to believe that the smaller male would be able to give up on them so easily.

 

The more he thinks about this, the more absurd he finds their current predicament.

 

“You didn’t strike me as a quitter, Kyungsoo.”

 

“I—”

 

He doesn’t hear Kyungsoo out, or rather, doesn’t give him a chance to answer as he grabs his face and leans in and does the one damn thing he has been dreaming of doing for the longest time now.

 

Jongin kisses Kyungsoo, pouring all there is to him into this intimate gesture that allows them to transcend the boundaries of friendship. Just as he thought, Kyungsoo’s lips are even softer than they look and so incredibly nice to kiss because they’re so warm and sweet, and how can Jongin possibly say goodbye when he can see himself doing this for the rest of his life?

 

When he feels like he’s going to run out of breath, he pulls back slightly and rests his forehead against Kyungsoo’s. The smaller male’s breath isn’t so steady anymore, and Jongin almost wishes he would speak just to hear if his voice will maintain that indifferent stability, until he remembers what he has to say.

 

The words come tumbling out in a rush, as if they’ve been trapped for too long. Maybe they have. Choked up emotions finally find their way out of the dark and into the world, lighting up the air around them.

 

“I don’t know if there’s a point to this. I might never know. But whether it makes sense or not, whether it’s the right thing to do or not—all these things are trivial because the only thing I care about is that I like you, Kyungsoo. I really, really, _really_ like you.”

 

He means it. He can stomach all doubts, even the ones that should be impossible to swallow, purely because he likes Kyungsoo too much to care anymore.

 

Kyungsoo’s cheek is so soft. Jongin caresses the smooth skin.

 

“Do you really want me to leave? Think about it, okay?”

 

The look Jongin knows so well is back on Kyungsoo’s face when he catches a glimpse of those raised brows. As much as Jongin wants to stay by his side and listen to him talk about the most random things until he can forget about what’s waiting for them ahead, he knows he needs to give him some space now.

 

So he turns back to the piano. His gaze doesn’t stray, remains transfixed on the instrument even when his hand finds Kyungsoo’s smaller one, fingers closing around what he would like to keep close to him for as long as the heavens will permit him to, and presses down on the final key that would finish the song he deliberately left uncompleted earlier.

 

It’s been a really long time since Jongin had to fight against the darkness since it has ceased catching him off-guard and clueless, but this time he feels himself resisting despite bringing it upon himself. He catches himself fighting and has to force himself to stop, to accept, to fall back.

 

The only thing he regrets when he opens his eyes to an empty room—planted on a chair that feels too big, too lonely for one—is not having taken another look at Kyungsoo.

 

Then again, his own face is on fire, so maybe he wouldn’t have been able to bear doing that after all.

 

\--

 

Was Jongin planning to confess Kyungsoo?

 

Well, maybe.

 

Was Jongin planning to confess to Kyungsoo in that manner?

 

Definitely _not_.

 

The human brain reacts in the most unexpected ways in times of emergencies, and in Jongin’s case, it fuelled him with an unbelievable amount of courage that he doesn’t think he would have been able to muster on his own.

 

He hasn’t stopped thinking about the look on Kyungsoo’s face, or the way his lips had felt pressed against his. Sleep only came in the wee hours of the morning, and he had spent the entire day in class dozing off repeatedly, but now that he’s sitting here before the piano and watching his fingers dance across the keys, Jongin has never felt more awake than now.

 

What should he tell Kyungsoo? What would Kyungsoo tell him? Was he too forward, went overboard by kissing him so suddenly without finding out first whether he’s okay with it?

 

Jongin groans softly, pausing for a long moment to allow himself to drown in his self-deprecating thoughts. The song, despite its jaggedness, comes full circle with the final note, and Jongin hears himself get engulfed by the darkness with a drawn out sigh.

 

He arrives at the other side safely—or as safely as he possibly can on a seat already half-filled with the person who has been on his mind all fucking day, every single day for the past few weeks.

 

This startling situation strips Jongin of his ability to function for a few seconds, the sole thing he’s capable of doing being staring at Kyungsoo with his eyes wide open and mouth even wider.

 

He thought Kyungsoo would say something, but it soon becomes evident that the smaller male is only interested in staring back at him, the look in his eyes completely foreign to Jongin who doesn’t have a single inkling of what will happen to them now.

 

Then it happens.

 

Kyungsoo smiles, and Jongin finds his answer in his curled lips, his gentle gaze.

 

He had always thought that the best day of his life was when they moved to their current house, and he got to have his own room instead of having to share with his brother, until now. A warm weight settles on his thigh, and he doesn’t have to look to know it’s Kyungsoo’s hand, doesn’t have to when his own fingers have already found smaller ones. He gives Kyungsoo’s hand a small squeeze, his touch conveying what words fail to do now.

 

At the end of the day, before Jongin leaves, Kyungsoo reaches up to cup his cheek, and he honestly doesn’t remember who started leaning in until they were joined in a slow, shy, tentative kiss that nothing, not even divine intervention, could have possibly ripped them apart.

 

-

 

“I can’t imagine life without you.”

 

Kyungsoo gives a small laugh when he hears that and shifts until he finds a more comfortable position in Jongin’s arms. Their legs are tangled beneath the sheets, and Oscar is a lump of fur beside them. A low clap of thunder outside signals a rapidly approaching storm.

 

“Life will go on,” Kyungsoo simply says to that, and that’s how Jongin knows he still has plenty of reservations about the issue they have avoided talking about so far.

 

Out of sight, out of mind. Right now, this house is the only thing that exists in this universe. And in this house, there are only two people who feel so very strongly about each other, two people who can lean on each other for support, two people who can talk about almost anything.

 

Jongin wishes he could say something to disperse the helplessness in Kyungsoo’s voice, but all he can do is swallow dryly. He draws back to look at Kyungsoo’s adorable face. The smaller male gazes up too, not complaining about being roused from having his face buried so comfortably in Jongin’s chest.

 

“I _don’t want_ to imagine a life without you,” Jongin corrects himself.

 

At that moment, Oscar, having sensed movement, lifts his head to regard the two humans. That certainly takes away the seriousness of the moment, and Kyungsoo gives a low chuckle.

 

“Neither do I,” he echoes Jongin’s sentiments and laughs again when the latter tightens his grip around his body, as though that would be enough to eliminate all chances of an impending involuntary separation.

 

The thunder booms again, much louder this time, and Jongin can’t help but think that the bad weather surrounding them seems to serve as an ominous foreshadowing, hinting at the danger of a very bad reality.

 

That just might be, for when the sky grows dark and the moon comes up, even the tenacity of Jongin’s embrace cannot rival the bigger force that drags him back into the world he belongs to.

 

Tears spring to his eyes. He holds them back like a warrior, knowing Kyungsoo would not want him to be like this, just as his heart aches at the thought of how Kyungsoo must have felt watching him disappear into thin air, feel the arms around him fade into nothing.

 

\--

 

The epiphany comes to Jongin quietly, like a butterfly landing softly on his shoulder, on a Tuesday. The evening’s dusky half-light adds to the lull of the moment, a beautiful end to a long day. The butterfly flutters before his eyes as he watches Kyungsoo’s back, looking more like he’s part of the sky than just someone standing against the astounding background.

 

Kyungsoo’s hair is thick and smells so good, and Jongin buries his face in the crown of his head. His arms lock around Kyungsoo’s frame, rooting him to the ground with him just in case he really melts into the sky.

 

“What are you doing?” Kyungsoo angles his head slightly so he can glimpse at Jongin from the corner of his eyes.

 

They’ve been spending every single day together. Jongin’s mother has started to become suspicious as to why her introverted son is starting to spend so much time away from home but seemed pleased to hear that he found someone he really enjoys hanging out with.

 

However, neither have forgotten the threat looming before them. Kyungsoo has started to bring up that depressing topic more often, and Jongin, sensing his willingness to approach that, is more open to talking about it as well.

 

“I’m just doing all the things that I want to do, the things that I would regret not doing or not having done more if we really have to say goodbye one day.”

 

Perhaps this is a sign of maturity, of bravery. Or perhaps, it might be resignation.

 

“Then I hope it's just an _‘if’_ and not a _‘when’_.”

 

Jongin focuses on how nice it feels to have Kyungsoo in his arms, how perfectly their bodies fit together, instead of the weight of the secret he’s keeping in his heart. The truth is, the date for them to move to another campus and for their current one to undergo demolishing proceedings can no longer be taken back. Jongin has just not been able to tell Kyungsoo that because he knows he would react to it negatively.

 

They might already be on a countdown, and Jongin can’t possibly bear for him to carry the same pain in his heart now.

 

He’ll try to think of something. He’s sure he will. Kyungsoo is also making steady progress, and soon enough he’ll be able to take him to the future, show him his world too.

 

Even so, even as Kyungsoo leans into the crook of his neck, Jongin finds himself wholly unable to fight away the dread that has invaded him, seeping into every nook and cranny of his body.

 

The sun sets, and it is a pity that nothing can stop the day from coming to an end.

 

-

 

The desperation grows bolder, manifesting on his tongue, through words that scare even himself when he hears them in a slightly shaky voice.

 

“Can you come get me?”

 

“What?”

 

“I’ll tell you where I was born and where I lived.”

 

It would take another four years before Jongin would be born. The implication of his words, however subtle, aren’t lost in Kyungsoo’s ears. His Adam’s apple bobs visibly.

 

“You wouldn’t recognize me until you’re 18.”

 

Jongin hates the flat note in Kyungsoo’s voice, hates that he knows Kyungsoo well enough to judge from the look on his face that he doesn’t think this idea will be feasible at all. Even so, he doesn’t give up just yet. He swoops in for a kiss, planting a big one on Kyungsoo’s cheek, hoping that would be enough to remind him what he would be letting go of if he decides to give up before they even start trying.

 

“I would. I surely would. My heart wouldn’t forget.”

 

Kyungsoo falters for a fraction of a second, his finger hovering above the piano key long enough for Jongin to notice. The silence it leaves in its wake is starking, and Jongin doesn’t know if he’s merely imagining hearing the sound of his heart breaking when it ends. Kyungsoo starts playing random keys to keep the music flowing, and the conversation going.

 

“22 years is a terribly long time to wait for someone.”

 

Jongin doesn’t return the gesture. He doesn’t respond to that, doesn’t know what to say, only now realizing that it has been a while since Kyungsoo stopped trying to play the composition.

 

His words didn’t exactly come as a surprise. Jongin knew all along that he was being overly optimistic, thinking there would somehow be something they can do about their predicament without either losing anything important. Yet, his heart hurts.

 

He doesn’t think it has ever hurt this much.

 

“Slowly.”

 

Kyungsoo enfolds Jongin’s trembling hands in his own. He doesn’t elaborate further, and Jongin doesn’t ask. He doesn’t think he wants to know what Kyungsoo wants them to do slowly—to work out a plan together slowly or start moving on?

 

He remembers how he felt the first time Kyungsoo brought him out, and they ate sausages by the road while laughing about the stupidest things. It is already starting to feel lonely even though Kyungsoo is right by his side, and he can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

 

“You are the most important person in my life right now,” Jongin says in a feeble voice.

 

His heartfelt confession that sounds more like a eulogy than anything brings tears to Kyungsoo’s eyes. The smaller male doesn’t bother to hide them, letting his eyes shine as he looks at Jongin.

 

Once upon a time, as Jongin sneaked glances at Kyungsoo while they were watching fireworks and saw his eyes sparkling with constellations, he told himself that he would protect this and always be the one to witness this sight. But now, his eyes are shining too, except they’re brimming with tears, and Jongin knows he’s the reason behind them.

 

Like the flipped side of the same coin.

 

“22 years is a terribly long time,” Kyungsoo says again in a whisper.

 

Jongin had thought he found happiness when he met Kyungsoo. Now, all he sees are broken fragments of the happiness that turned out to be the most fragile crystal ball. He doesn’t say anything to that, doesn’t have anything he can say, doesn’t want to lie to Kyungsoo or himself anymore.

 

\--

 

“I don’t know what to do.”

 

He had hoped the rain would muffle the sound of his voice, the pain in his words, but when he feels Kyungsoo’s shoulders slump beneath the arm he has slung around him, he knows he can’t hide something like this forever.

 

“It’s not something you can do anything about,” Kyungsoo says after a long pause.

 

Their sneakers are completely drenched from the rain, squelching as they walk through the storm. Jongin doesn’t even feel the discomfort, being too entirely focused on the person beside him.

 

“I wish we had gotten another sausage,” Jongin sighs wistfully, looking around them. The night sky turned a dark crimson before the harsh rain started to fall, beating down on them mercilessly.

 

Kyungsoo opens his mouth to respond, then shuts it a second later, probably realizing that this is it for them. He cannot tell Jongin there will be a next time.

 

There will be no _next time_.

 

“Do you remember when you first told me what was going to happen, and I told you that maybe you should stop coming back here since there wasn’t a point? Before you kissed me?”

 

They can see Kyungsoo’s house at the end of the street now. Jongin tightens the grip he has around Kyungsoo’s shoulders. Their pace slows, willing to spend more time out in this terrible weather as long as they have each other.

 

“I do,” Jongin confirms. “You have no idea how upset I was hearing you say that. I thought I didn’t mean anything to you, for you to want to give up on me so easily.”

 

Kyungsoo gives him an incredulous look, eyebrows raising to paint that expression this time. “It was because you meant a lot to me, _idiot_.”

 

Hearing this only makes Jongin’s heart ache in the most bittersweet manner possible. He gives a small smile that reflects his conflicted feelings.

 

Kyungsoo goes on, voice rising above the sound of the rain. “I’ve been thinking and thinking and thinking, and no matter how I look at it, we were fated to meet. You had to meet me. I had to meet you.”

 

The sweetness of his words, the high regard he holds for their relationship, seep into Jongin’s chest and warms his heart.

 

“We were fated to meet,” Kyungsoo repeats. Jongin likes how he says that word.

 

 _Fated._ In a soft voice, calm and steady—not like nothing can go wrong, but rather like things will turn out okay eventually even if they go wrong for now.

 

“But we aren’t fated to be together forever.”

 

The painfully indisputable truth behind Kyungsoo’s words is mitigated only by the look in his eyes. Jongin identifies longing, wistfulness, sadness, hopelessness—all emotions he badly wants to expunge, yet ironically is the reason they exist at all.

 

Now that he gives it some careful thought, Kyungsoo is right. Maybe they wouldn’t be hurting as much as they do now if they had ended it back then, before their relationship got a chance to progress, before they could admit their feelings to each other. Possibilities might have been less painful than now knowing what they’re about to lose.

 

He was the selfish one who wanted to hold on despite not knowing how things would work out.

 

However, even at this juncture, Jongin thinks he would have made the same choice regardless. He still would have kissed Kyungsoo if he could go back in time and receive his affection freely in the short amount of time they had left together, even if it meant it would be so painful for the both of them now.

 

They say love should be selfless, but Jongin is blown away by his own selfishness.

 

Kyungsoo must have managed to piece together the thoughts running through his mind, for he stops them in the middle of the path and presses his palm against Jongin’s cheek.

 

“I don’t regret any of this, so please don’t regret it either. Everything becomes meaningless if you start regretting it. This is painful, but at least we got to meet, and that will just have to be enough.” Kyungsoo looks like he wants to cry, but doesn’t. “We can’t compare our love to what other people have, okay?”

 

Jongin buries his face in the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck as he cries. The loud rain muffles the sounds of his sobs and desperation to cling on, although surely Kyungsoo is able to sense it.

 

At night, as the time for Jongin to be channeled back to the world he belongs to creeps closer, they both settle comfortably in bed with the dog curled at their feet. Jongin feels much better after crying and letting what he has been suppressing all along out for once and for all, and Kyungsoo had whispered such sweet reassurances into his ears.

 

He gazes tenderly into Kyungsoo’s eyes, raking his eyes down his handsome features, absorbing the sight of his face and committing every little detail to memory. Those thick lashes, those eyes that appear so brown in the sun, those pretty lips.

 

The request he had dared to raise in the little room with the mysterious piano, the promise of a 22-year wait, becomes a lump in his throat that he swallows. Of course, he wishes that Kyungsoo would reunite with him when he gets back, albeit a much older Kyungsoo than now, but he isn’t so entirely blinded by his own desires to sense that Kyungsoo isn’t as enthusiastic about this idea as he is.

 

He can understand. He doesn’t think he’d have the confidence to meet 18-year-old Kyungsoo when he’s 40 years old. He wouldn’t be at the prime of his youth anymore, and he doesn’t want to make Kyungsoo wait for so long and miss out on things that someone else could give him.

 

So the question dies in his throat, never to surface again.

 

“I’ll miss Oscar.”

 

“He’ll miss you too.”

 

“What about you?”

 

“I’ll miss you so much,” Kyungsoo doesn’t hesitate. “You wouldn’t even believe how much I’d miss you.”

 

“If you get lonely… just come look for me, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Kyungsoo tells him.

 

Yet, Jongin already knows the outcome. Kyungsoo wouldn’t look for him. In all the 18 years of his life, he has never encountered a strange man approaching him, claiming to know him, claiming to have been his lover from what can be counted as another life, in a different world.

 

He knows Kyungsoo wouldn’t look for him. This would be the end for them.

 

“I never learned how to play the piece in time.” Kyungsoo gives a small laugh directed at himself. His breath tickles Jongin’s neck, which causes the other male to laugh too. They end up laughing for a long time afterwards, converting all the sadness they feel at parting into a random burst of happiness from at least still being together at this moment.

 

Jongin glances at the clock when their chests stop heaving from laughing so hard.

 

“Take care of yourself, okay?”

 

“So strange.” Kyungsoo closes his eyes, lips still stretched into a smile. Jongin leans closer, captivated, mesmerized, unable to believe someone this beautiful had been his at all. “Goodbye is something I can never say with grace no matter how long I’ve been preparing myself for this.”

 

What would he most regret not doing when their time together is all used up? Jongin just goes along with his heart. Their lips meet in a slow kiss, much like their first.

 

Kyungsoo gets the last words as Jongin starts fading away, feeling the pressure against his lips diminish gradually until it becomes only emptiness.

 

“I’ll never forget the time we spent together. I’m glad you were a part of my youth, I really am, so don’t regret anything, _please_.”

 

There are many terrible things Jongin can do. He can punch a hole in the wall. He can crumple the music sheet. He can steal the piano, drag it all the way back home and see if it will work somewhere else.

 

Yet, he doesn’t do any of that.

 

He sits alone on the chair, arms hanging limply by his sides.

 

No rage. No bitterness. No resentment.

 

Above all, no regret.

 

None at all.

 

-

 

A new line appears on the wooden cupboard in the locked classroom the next day, a confession that goes unheard, unseen.

 

_GOO D BY E, I LO VE Y  OU_

 

Jongin has to drag himself out of his house that day. He nearly boards the wrong bus—the one he’s used to, that would take him to his old school campus. Tears spring to his eyes. He lets his head fall back and leans against the pillar.

 

When the right bus comes along, Jongin wonders why it feels completely wrong, like it’d get him nowhere.

 

-

 

What does Jongin regret the most?

 

He twirls his pen absently, gaze trained on the vast blue sky outside the window. The new school campus is pretty nice, really modern and vibrant, but for someone who has lost his everything, the world might very well have ended.

 

It would probably be not kissing Kyungsoo enough. He should have leapt at every single opportunity he got to kiss him; his cheeks, his nose, his forehead—he really didn’t kiss him enough. No, it would be not telling Kyungsoo that he’s handsome enough. He should have repeated that to him over and over again, chanted it like a mantra, even if Kyungsoo got annoyed at him. Kyungsoo deserves to know how amazing he is. Oh, or maybe it would be not touching him enough, not running his fingers through his thick hair enough—

 

“Jongin?”

 

Minseok has to snap his fingers to jolt him back to reality.

 

Jongin had been too lost in thoughts of Kyungsoo, and the contrast of Minseok’s almond shaped eyes compared to the wide ones in his mind is painfully obvious. He rubs his nose, looking away.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You okay? You seem a little out of it.”

 

_A little out of it._

 

Jongin raises his head, allowing his gaze to fall on his classmate. Minseok looks just as he always does, eyes bright and smile playful. Why wouldn’t he? It’s not like he lost the most precious person in his life.

 

He’s not _just_ a little out of it. Jongin bites down on his bottom lip. How can he possibly explain the kind of loss he had to experience to Minseok?

 

“Just tired,” he eventually mutters. “Don’t worry.”

 

His classmate studies him for a long moment and evidently decides to drop it as he turns away.

 

“Alright. You have anything on after school? Chanyeol and I are gonna get dinner.”

 

Jongin instinctively opens his mouth to say yes, then stops when he realizes he doesn’t have a reason to reject his invitation. He has nothing on after this. No secret room, no mysterious piano, no Kyungsoo. It’s a thing of the past. It will never happen again.

 

“No.” The first step to moving on is acceptance. Jongin clenches his fists. He has to spit his words through gritted teeth. “I’ll join you guys.”

 

Even if Minseok has noticed something off about his usually dreamy friend, he doesn’t say anything. He simply pats Jongin’s shoulder, and the reassuring weight of his hand admittedly brings a large degree of comfort to the latter.

 

“Great. See you later.”

 

Jongin smiles at him.

 

_See you later._

 

He used to say that to Kyungsoo all the time too.

 

\--

 

“Here you go.”

 

Jongin nearly flinches when he sees the sausage Minseok is holding out for him. He doesn’t grab it, just looks questioningly at his classmate who shrugs loosely.

 

“This stall is really famous for their sausages.”

 

He glances over Minseok’s shoulder at the cart he had bought their sausages from. It’s not like he was expecting it to be the same stall he and Kyungsoo always bought their sausages from, but his heart sinks to the pit of his stomach anyway when he sees only one stall-owner instead of two, a middle-aged lady with curly hair and not the old couple he’s used to seeing.

 

Even the sausage doesn’t taste quite the same, or maybe it’s just difficult to enjoy it when he’s distracted enough trying to hold back his tears. Minseok doesn’t notice, or pretends not to, and simply scuffs his sneakers against the ground while watching people around them come and go.

 

Chanyeol rejoins them shortly after with popcorn and fizzy drinks.

 

They sit along the curb a little further off from the roadside stalls, just talking about school and games and random things. Jongin doesn’t contribute much to the conversation. He doesn’t have anything to say when his head is filled to the brim with thoughts of a particular person.

 

It’s both a blessing and a curse, to be able to sit here and reminiscence the times he spent with Kyungsoo. Nice that he was able to experience that at all, but agonizing that the loss is so palpable with every single breath he takes—it hurts.

 

Jongin breaks the promise he had made with Kyungsoo the moment he’s back home and tucked into bed. He had promised Kyungsoo on that rainy day that he wouldn’t try to look for Kyungsoo, but his longing for the smaller male has only driven him to the edge of the cliff. He has to know how he’s doing. Even if they can’t end up together, he needs to know that Kyungsoo is fine and living well.

 

Without him.

 

So Jongin types in Kyungsoo’s name shakily into the search engine, not quite knowing what to expect. His breath hitches, gets caught in his throat, eyes widening as the results load and promptly show up. He scrolls through a dozen Facebook profiles but doesn’t find a single one that belongs to the Kyungsoo he knows. No matter how long it has been, Jongin knows he would always recognize Kyungsoo. It doesn’t matter how much he has changed. The heart knows who it loves.

 

After a futile 15 minutes of finding nothing remotely close to what he’s looking for, he hits the backspace and tries again. This time, he enters _Do Kyungsoo_ and the high school he’s studying in.

 

The first link that shows up is a news article. Jongin launches it immediately, and he knows it’s the Kyungsoo he’s looking for before the text even loads on his screen.

 

Words materialize and he scans through them with dilated pupils.

 

The title alone is a good enough summary for the entire article, but Jongin can’t believe what he’s seeing, doesn’t want to. He goes through the entire thing once, twice, thrice, finds himself still in disbelief even at the end of it.

 

He had told Kyungsoo to take care of himself. But Do Kyungsoo will drown at the end of 1995, on the last day of his graduation trip.

 

Maybe the reason why he never looked for Jongin isn’t because he wouldn’t fight for him, but because he _can’t_. He wouldn’t even be alive. He would, for some stupid reason, go into the sea with his rowdy friends when he can’t swim in the first place. They would stray further and further away from safety, until it’s too deep for their feet to reach the ground, and Kyungsoo would never surface again after he goes under. They’ll find his body a few hours later.

The phone falls to the ground with a thud. Jongin curls up into himself, cupping his mouth to muffle his sobs. Do Kyungsoo wouldn’t make it past the year they met.

 

The only thought that emerges from the storm in his head that night is that he can’t possibly let this happen to the only person who has ever mattered. It was fate that brought them together. There must be a reason why they had to meet, and this must be it.

 

\--

 

The hardest part was getting through the locked gates and avoiding detection. He has a bulky backpack full of clothes and his uniform beneath his black hoodie. It’s the first time he’s going to try traveling back at this time of the night, but it’s alright because he knows where Kyungsoo’s house is.

 

He keeps thinking about how Kyungsoo would look when he shows up before him. He might get mad, since he was the one who asked Jongin to stop coming back after all. Maybe they’d argue a little, then Jongin would do all the things he regretted not doing. Kiss him until the end of time, eat a million sausages with him, tell him all the stories he has ever heard.

 

They have already started tearing down the main building. Jongin tries not to look. He shoves his hands into his pockets and brisk-walks to the old building beside the field, hoping the door to the secret room wouldn’t be locked.

 

When he gets there, the door swings open with a creak so loud it makes his skin crawl, goosebumps erupting across the surface. It looks creepier at this time of the night in what is practically an abandoned building now, but Jongin gathers his courage and strides into the room.

 

The piano is cold to the touch. Yet, as the soft moonlight streams through the glass window, Jongin sees the music sheet left on the stand in the exact position he had left it. It feels almost like it was waiting for him to return. He fingers the edge of the sheet, already yellowed and tattered.

 

Despite the one month gap, Jongin still knows the song like the back of his hand. The notes have long been imprinted onto his mind, there’s no way he’ll ever forget. His fingers gain a life of their own, and for the very first time, Jongin has the strangest feeling of being the original composer of this song, determining the tempo and outcome.

 

Perhaps he was the one who wrote this song in another life, another world.

 

He notices the notes disappearing only when he’s halfway through the song, having been too absorbed in his musing earlier. Jongin blinks at first, unable to believe his eyes, but when it becomes clear that the ink on the music sheet is starting to fade, a sense of urgency fills him.

 

That is admittedly strange, for he doesn’t need to rely on the music sheet to be able to play the entire song, yet his instinct tells him that he has to finish this before everything disappears completely. It would be too late if he doesn’t manage to do so by then.

 

The ground beneath him starts shaking too. Jongin’s initial suspicion is that an earthquake has struck, and his doubt is proven true when the tremor grows more violent, ferocious, as if something deep within the earth has been disturbed and is filled with rage.

 

Like the whole damn world is trying to stop him from going back in time, back to Kyungsoo.

 

He doesn’t stop, keeps his fingers dancing across the piano keys, even as he hears glass shattering in the next room and his fight-or-flight instinct threatens to overcome him.

 

This is the oldest building. It’s the most dangerous place to be in the event of an earthquake, and Jongin thinks he might have gone absolutely insane as he doesn’t budge one bit. It can’t be that what he’s doing right now is causing the earthquake, can it? It must be nothing more than a coincidence.

 

The top half of the music sheet is completely empty now, just blank, and Jongin swears under his breath as he plays faster. His heart slams violently against his ribcage, almost like a backbeat in the background as he battles it out with whatever divine force is trying to stop him from ruining the natural order of things and going back in time.

 

Down to the last line.

 

The ink starts fading at an even faster speed from this point. Jongin had thought that would be his biggest challenge, but he realizes how wrong he is when a crack appears in the ground, growing large, spreading fast.

 

He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to ignore that scary sight. He must get to Kyungsoo. He’ll die trying if he has to.

 

His finger hits the last key. His eyes fly open in time to catch the last symbol on the sheet become nothing, just a blank piece of paper staring back at him. The ground seems to heave, and he swears he hears something like a resigned sigh before it collapses beneath him with the mightiest roar.

 

Jongin opens his mouth to scream for help, but no sound escapes, and he only spreads his fingers dumbly as he feels himself fall back. He falls, along with the debris, the building, the world around him coming to an end.

 

He shuts his eyes for what he thinks will be the final time, a single glistening tear rolling down his cheek.

 

He had braced himself for death, so when he lands on his back with a loud hiss, he doesn’t move for the first few minutes. The light eats into his eyes when he opens them, completely bewildered. It’s too bright. He wishes someone would dim the light, draw a curtain or— wait, light?

 

This place is familiar. It’s the piano room, but instead of having landed on the chair like he did the previous times, he’s on his ass on the ground. The building isn’t shaking; the world isn’t ending; there are no cracks on the floor.

 

“ _What the hell?_ ” Jongin mutters.

 

It’s daylight outside. Is this 1995?

 

He gets to his feet and dusts his pants, then looks around him curiously. This is the first time he has arrived at a different time. Before he can worry about what could have possibly gone wrong, he notices the empty music stand on the piano. The music sheet that had taken him here is nowhere to be seen, its disappearance so clean and abrupt it wouldn’t be hard to believe that it never existed at all.

 

The piano just looks like an ordinary piano, nothing magical about it.

 

The hallway is empty as far as his gaze can stretch, but he hears voices coming from inside the classrooms, sees students falling asleep and teachers scribbling on the blackboard. This must be 1995. It has to be where Kyungsoo is, because that was his last shot. There is no going back. He’s trapped here forever.

 

The song that would take him back to his world doesn’t exist anymore.

 

Jongin walks dazedly down the hallway, not knowing what to make of everything. The building has changed too. He doesn’t remember there being so many classrooms in this building, or there being so many classes conducted here. It feels like he’s stuck in a limbo, like this is all just a dream. When the bell rings and the students start pouring out from their classrooms, a familiar face snags his attention. Time ceases to exist.

 

He comes face to face with Kyungsoo.

 

A small whimper latches on his throat, and after multiple failed attempts to swallow it, tears its way out. Kyungsoo is only standing five feet away with his arms curled protectively around his textbooks. Jongin gets shoved aside by other students trying to walk down the narrow hallway, but he can’t take his eyes off the smaller male.

 

Kyungsoo only stares at him, his expression completely impassive. He doesn’t even look taken aback—he just looks blank, like he doesn’t recognize Jongin in the first place.

 

Jongin wants to call out to him, but he finds himself unable to articulate a single word, or do anything at all for that matter. He doesn’t even feel in control of himself anymore. Kyungsoo just keeps staring at him, and for a fleeting moment, Jongin gets reminded of what Kyungsoo had told him.

 

_We were fated to meet. But we aren’t fated to be together forever._

 

It’s as if someone flipped a switch in Kyungsoo when Jongin returns to his senses. He spots it; something shifts in Kyungsoo’s gaze, and just like the day Kyungsoo accepted his confession without saying a single world, the smaller male’s lips lift into a small smile.

 

Jongin smiles back.

 

It’s 1995. He managed to find his way back after all.

 

_I’m not going down without a fight, not when you’re at stake._

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by Secret (2007 film)


End file.
